Compatibility Test
by AspiringAuthoress
Summary: “Did you know that your socks were probably made in China?” Damn. I was so close to escaping this conversation with out a stupid, stupid comment like that one. “Actually they’re from Pakistan.” Troyella. COMPLETE
1. Compatibility Test

This is somewhat of an experiment. I know a lot of people don't like reading in the first person point of view, but I had this thought so I went with it. It's AU and my first one at that so please read it and tell me what you think.

I used to be a happy nerd. Well, I was happy after I got contacts, no one looks good in glasses. I mean I suppose _some_ people look good in glasses, but I didn't. At least I couldn't look _hot_ in glasses, of course with my fashion sense (or major lack there of) there really wasn't a good chance of that anyway, but a girl can try right? So I got my contacts, we moved yet again and I was perfectly happy.

Alright no, I wasn't perfectly happy. East High wasn't exactly my ideal high school to spend my whole junior year in. Which if you think about the percentage of kids who spend all four years in the same school sounds really weird.

My mom and I move around, a lot. It's her job, but I've never really minded moving very much. I mean I've lived all over the country and most other people my age have lived in what two maybe three different places tops. I roughly attend two schools a year, I don't think I've stayed at one school for two semesters since fifth grade. Which really puts a damper on making friends, as you might imagine. So you can understand why I was so excited about living in Albuquerque, I might actually make a close friend or two this year.

And making friends is good right? Of course it is and East High is relatively clean, has decent sized class rooms, and a lot of after school activities. It's just, I don't know maybe I've been spoiled (I spent my first half of sophomore year in Hollywood-on a full scholarship of course. Have I mentioned that I'm practically a genius? No? Go figure, you'd think I would want people to know that I could skip ahead to collage if I wanted to. Guess I'm just shy…) or something but East High just seems so…blah. White walls, off white lockers, their sports team is called the 'Wildcats' for Gods sake. I mean really, if the school is going to sponsor idiots to run around and score points, which they probably couldn't even keep track of with out a scoreboard, then they should at least pick a less generic name. But that might just be my sarcasm talking.

As it turned out though East High wasn't so bad. Taylor McKessie, captain of the Mathletes and a self-proclaimed brainiac adopted me into her clique on the first day. I suppose now you're wondering why someone as sarcastic and (somewhat) witty as I am is gravitating towards loserville. I suppose it's partly because of my image, as I've said before my fashion sense is somewhat lacking (I wore turtlenecks up until seventh grade). I think that the biggest part of my nerdy-ness though is my mouth. It has an annoying tendency of saying nothing that my brain wants it too. Or worse I start talking and thinking math when people talk to me.

For example, a cute guy walks up to me and asks what we had for homework in Social Studies. Instead of answering him I look at his clothes and think, '_If his shirt, jeans, and shoes are all made in China, then what's the probability that his socks are made in Taiwan?'_. Just when he's starting to edge away I'll panic and blurt out, "Did you know that there's a good chance that your socks were made in China?"

But my real geekiness shows (to me anyway) when instead of thinking '_How stupid of me! I should have told him the homework.' _I think, _'How stupid of me! Of course his socks were made in China, everything's made in China these days!'. _It's scary I know.

I learned another good thing about East High about a week after school started, cliques don't really matter so much. Like, in the Seattle school I spent some of my freshman year at jocks and nerds didn't even speak to each other. Even the popular kids didn't mix with the jocks, and no one switched cliques. Ever.

It's not like jocks and brainiacs eat together or mingle or anything (this school still has some respect for cliques) but it's perfectly acceptable for a jock (a very _very_ hot jock I might add) to walk right up to one of us and say, "Hey McKessie. Got five bucks?". And then it's alright for that nerd to tell the jock to go to hell. Which Taylor did. So the jock turned to me.

"Hey, you got five dollars? Oh you're the new girl right?" I had no idea how he knew that, I still have no idea how he knew that.

"Yeah, hi I'm Gabriella." So far so good, I hadn't insulted him yet and I hadn't spoken about socks either. I was on a roll.

"Gabriella…?"

"Oh! Montez." It took me a few seconds to figure out that he was looking for my last name, after that he just kinda stood there so I decided to attempt to be cool and ask his name. But of course since it's me I just settled for a questioning look.

"I'm Troy Bolton by the way." Troy Bolton, obviously a jock and uber cute, this was probably my only chance to impress him. Talk about mission impossible.

"Did you know that your socks were probably made in China?" Damn. I was so close to escaping this conversation with out a stupid, stupid comment like that one.

This is where it gets scary. He didn't laugh at me or walk away or anything. Troy just looked me in the eye and said,

"Actually they're from Pakistan."

But the scariest part was that I couldn't tell if he was joking or not. I have this knack of picking peoples personalities apart, by the time I've finished evaluating the person I know exactly what makes them tick and why. I already knew Taylor was a sucker for a good math equation, didn't think about boys that much, and made fun of the jocks because she was jealous that most of them would get collage scholarships and she wouldn't, even though she was smarter than all of them combined. It was pretty safe to say that I could look forward to a future in psychology. As hard as I tried though I just couldn't figure Troy Bolton out. This was definitely going to keep me up tonight.

"So…" As amazing as it might seem he was still standing there, and if it was someone normal-er than me this might seem…well normal. Of course it is me so after mentally planing different witty comments and the effect that they might have, I blinked at him before he asked, "Do you have five dollars?"

I did happen to have exactly five dollars in my purse so I gave it to him. I could only blame this stupidity on hormones, or maybe Troy himself, no person should be that hot as well as confusing.

"Well that was stupid of you." Taylor told me as we walked towards our lockers. Taylor was my first friend here and I didn't want to offend her by saying that I didn't know what she was talking about so I decided to take a subtle course of action.

"Uh…what was?" So maybe subtlety wasn't one of my strong points.

"You gave away your money for the test."

"I'm sorry, what test?" Apparently neither was perception, but for the life of me I couldn't figure out why I would have to pay five dollars to take a test. Had the rules changed? When? Taylor looked at me as if I was an idiot and admittedly I was kind of acting like one.

"The compatibility test." Oh right. That test. The one that the school gave out once a year. Apparently the idea was to match students up with other compatible students based on the answers they gave on a survey. And the money-sucking little (let's keep it PG here) um, money-suckers on the board of supervisors charged five dollars for the list of the top five guys (or girls depending on your gender) you matched up with. A great way for me to make friends now that I thought of it. So naturally I asked Taylor for five dollars and thankfully she had taken an extra five with her in case she lost the first one. Thank God for my friend's money, and you know her amazingly giving personality.

The match test/survey was ten questions of pure nonsense. It was somewhat fun to fill out though. But some of the questions were just stupid.

Does the color red remind you of…

A. violence

B. activity

C. anger

This was one of the stupider ones, and it being the first question it really didn't give me hope for the other nine. I chose B. by the way.

You think of yourself as…

A. Calm and relaxed

B. Energetic and fun loving

C. Rebellious and opinionated

Where was D. insane and geeky? I chose A. for lack of a better option.

Your ideal date is…

A. Dinner and a movie

B. A concert

C. A walk in the park

It really all depends on which movie is showing doesn't it? Still A. was the best option.

Your life is…

A. One boring day after another

B. A new adventure everyday

C. Always changing.

Based on all the moves I'd been though and all the places I'd lived C. was a pretty obvious answer. And of course how could I forget my all time favorite question?

If you were an ice-cream flavor you would be…

A. Fat-free vanilla frozen yogurt.

B. Chocolate

C. Neapolitan

Who cared what ice cream flavor I was? Not me. I chose C. again because I supposed that the different flavors could represent the different places I'd lived in. I really don't want to bore you with the other five questions (some of which I kinda forgot) so let's just skip the rest of the day (decidedly boring) and head straight to the end of ninth period, shall we?

At the end of the day all paying students were handed little white envelopes with our compatible matches inside. Apparently your number one match was a big deal or something because it was printed on a separate slip of paper. I didn't recognize any of the four names on the first list, big surprise there. I was actually beginning to wonder what had possessed me to pay for the names of people I didn't know when I looked at the final name one the other sheet of paper.

5. Henry Blanche  
4. Jacob Henderson  
3. Jeffery Simm  
2. Samuel Kenderick

1. Troy Bolton

Great.

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	2. My Deepest Loathing

**Thank you so much for all of the reveiws! I had no idea that this story would be so popular. I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter.  
**

"Mom!" I yelled wading through the piles of unpacked boxes that had claimed most of the space in our tiny apartment, and from the looks of things we wouldn't be unpacking any time in the near future. I'm sure some people start unpacking their belongings the day that they move into their new place. I'm also sure that those people are planning on staying in the house, apartment, trailer, or whatever they're living in for more than a few months. And (just to sweeten the deal) I'm willing to bet that the family doesn't consist of a single mother and her teenage daughter.

"Ma-maaaa!" I practically screeched when she didn't answer me. I've found that the more syllables there are in a word the faster the other person responds. Case in point as soon as I shut my mouth I heard my mom's voice coming from the kitchen. I didn't quite understand what she said but it sounded like, 'I'm in the kitchen darling'. Normal? Oh no not in this family. I don't mean to be harsh but my mom was never meant to have kids, she acts like an older sister with maternal instincts. Well maternal instincts that kinda suck at times. And she never, _never_, calls me darling, or honey, or even sweetie, we're talking developmental scarring here. Since we're on the topic of my mom scarring me for life (this ties in with the never meant to be a mom thing) she referred to me as 'the best mistake she ever made' until I was seven and asked her what she meant…and she still wonders why I'm so messed up.

There was only one way that my mom would ever call me darling and I knew what that meant - company. It also meant that I'd have to make polite yet stilted conversation with one or more of my mom's friends who generally ranged from uptight business women (reason number three that my mother shouldn't be a mom, she's a well off and totally focused on her carrier-not-so-much-her-kid business woman) to 'her latest projects' (druggies and strippers she was helping to get off the streets). Therefore exposing me to all the different people that I do not want to be like when I grow up, thanks Mom thanks a lot.

As I neared our tiny kitchen I heard polite small talk drifting through the apartment, so it was business today. Interestingly enough Mom had been on the phone constantly for the past few days, maybe she was finally meeting with a client or something.

As I had suspected two women in business suits were sitting at our little wooden kitchen table (the cheap kind that are supposed to look expensive, it came with the apartment) with a mug of coffee each. The brunette, who looked ready to fall asleep, was my mom (I swear she could use some hibernation time). Though it looked as if she hadn't slept in days she still managed to look presentable, if I was in her place I'd probably be in sweats, with out make-up, and I definitely wouldn't have bothered to brush my hair. I guess I won't be following in my mother's footsteps, that's alright I'm not even completely sure what she does for a living.

The other brunette was small, perky, and she seemed to be a little high on coffee, although maybe she always talked extremely fast and in a high pitched voice. Regardless of her mental state at the moment she was holding up a flier with a house printed on half the page and the number of bathrooms and bedrooms printed on the other half.

"Nowthishouseismoreinthepricerangeyouweretalkingabout. Itcomescompletewithgranitecountertopsinthekitchenandthreelargebedrooms. It'sjustwhatyourlookingfor." She rambled on for a few more minutes about God knows what (I know I didn't have a clue what she was saying) until I decided to subtly hint that I had no idea what was going on.

"Uh mom…? Who is this?" Alright subtlety _really_ isn't my strong point, but at least I'd get some answers now. My mom turned towards with this huge (and slightly unhinged looking) smile on her face and knew this couldn't be good.

"Honey, this is Mary, she's a real estate agent. And I know this is a big step for us, but I think we can handle it." She said still smiling. I don't know what she was expecting me to do but judging by the way her face fell, just standing there wasn't it. In my defense though I thought she was trying to tell me that she was pregnant or something, but I didn't know what a real estate agent had to do with that. Unless we had to move to a bigger house because of the baby, that made sense. Honestly though what was she thinking having another child? The poor girl (or boy I suppose) would probably end up wearing any of my old baby clothes (which would totally suck if it was a boy) that my mom still owned.

"My God what were you thinking Mom?" I exploded, she was old enough to know that she couldn't handle another kid. And just when had she found time to uh…make…this kid anyway? Who had she found?

"Well I thought the extra room would be nice…You know since we'll be here for a while." Her voice was small and scared sounding, I might have thought that was pretty cool (how often do you get the chance to scare your mom like that? Especially when you're a good little rule abiding daughter like me) if I wasn't complete distracted by my new sibling's peril.

"Well are you even gonna marry the guy?" I asked, the baby at least deserved to have a father.

"What? Gabriella Maria Margarita Montez what on _earth_ are talking about?" Ah the dreaded double middle name, just another reason to add to the list of factors messing up my life. And that's right people my initials are G.M.M.M, I'm seriously considering losing one of my middle names when I turn eighteen. Probably Margarita would be the one to go, I know it's Spanish and everything but here in America it's an alcoholic drink (a fact I'm sure my parents were completely aware of when they named me).

"So…I take it your not…pregnant…" I laughed nervously as my mother let out a string of Spanish curse words and Mary blushed from her roots to her neck, pregnancy obviously wasn't her thing. Or mine, which is why I escaped to my room with a muttered apology and a thumbs up to Mary about the picture of the house she was still holding.

I suppose you can tell by now that I have an over active imagination, it makes for some pretty interesting dreams but it also convinces me of the strangest things. Like for example that my mom was pregnant, obviously she learned her lesson with me.

I hadn't been sitting in my room for very long when my phone rang, I scrambled over my mattress and various boxes (if we really were moving then it was a good thing I hadn't unpacked yet) to get to it. When your room is boxed up and the walls are white a person can get bored very quickly, any calls, prank or otherwise were appreciated. I spent an hour talking to a some guy trying to sell me some skin care product once (I never want to talk so much about clogged pores again, eww but I was desperate) .

"Hello?" I've been trying to think of a new way to answer the phone, I mean really 'Hello?' can you say cliché, but I honestly can't think of anything that doesn't sound stupid or tacky.

"Hi, this is Troy. Remember me?" Remember him? How do you forget the source of your deepest loathing? I mean, I'm sure he's a lovely person on the inside, but since I CAN'T FIGURE HIM OUT, I wouldn't know. How could he sound so casual? I was sure that I would never understand this guy.

"How do you know my number?" Oh yeah, way to be smooth Gabriella, way to be smooth.

"Phonebook. Look my test thing might be screwed up but are we a match?" I almost snorted, what was he saying? I was you know…me, and he was Troy Bolton star of the basketball team (I'd done some research), were we a match? You can do the math, but I didn't have to.

"Well I mean technically we are but I don't really-"

"Great, maybe we should meet somewhere. How does coffee sound?" He cut me off , I was trying to give him a polite refusal and he _cut me off_. See if I'm ever polite to him again. I was so miffed that I didn't process what he was saying for a few seconds.

"Are you on drugs?!" I nearly yelled at him. I knew him but I didn't know him that well, he could be a rapist or, or well maybe that was my wild and crazy imagination going off on a stroll through wild and crazy lane again. But seriously did he think I was going to accept?

"Ummm…no. So I guess I'll just see you around then?"

"I doubt it but you know maybe." I didn't want to be too hard on the guy, he was obviously delusional as it was. Maybe that's why I couldn't understand him, because he was crazier than I was.

"Gabriella!" My mom's voice came through the phone's speakers after Troy had hung up the phone, "Why were you so mean to that poor boy?"

"Hey mom ever heard of privacy? Would you please respect my personal space?" We had these arguments from time to time, as I said she was closer to an older sibling than an actual mom.

"Privacy? I changed your diapers and bathed you as a baby! You know nothing about privacy. Oh and dinner's ready I need you to come to the kitchen." You see we didn't even argue normally. I hung up and walked the three or so feet to the kitchen, and the heavenly smell of burnt macaroni and cheese smacked into me like a brick wall. Mom's not exactly the best cook either.

**Please please review. It really means a lot to me when I get feed back, it helps me to know what readers what to see happen and which parts were liked and/or disliked. **


	3. Sharpay And That Other Guy

**Oh my God I feel so stupid, I spelled Compatibility wrong in the title, I was typing fast and it was late but I feel like such and idiot, that's been corrected for all you grammar nazi's out there. Thank you everyone for the amazing reviews I recieved! I can't thank you enough! Please remember that I own nothing and neither know nor own any celebrities mentioned.**

Let me give you a few words of advice, if someone tells you that it's not a good idea to introduce yourself to the president of the drama club, no matter how much you love musicals don't do it. Just for future reference, it's a really good way to make enemies. Of course if you _want_ to make enemies then by all means, go introduce yourself (you might even want to sign up to try out for the lead role). Now I have an arch-enemy of my very own, that's right no one hates me more than Sharpay Evans. Well Ryan might hate me more if Sharpay told him to now that I think about it…

Most of the time when your day starts out bad it just gets worse right? That's always the case for me anyway, everything just snowballs out of control. And bad days always start the same way, my mom packs me lunch. She doesn't seem to realize that I need more than just a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a coke to survive the school day, I mean I eat at one-thirty (it's criminal I know) at least give me sustenance! Right? Except I don't think normal people say sustenance, do they?

Anyway, I was walking down the hall gently swinging my brown paper bag hoping against hope that I could trade lunches with someone (or at least beg some food off Martha Cox, now that girl knows how to pack a lunch), when I heard someone calling my name. Naturally I assumed there was another Gabriella in the building (there had to be it's a pretty popular name, and besides who would be calling me anyway?) and kept walking. Until that is the said caller of my name grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. By this time I was ready to karate chop him to death (not that I know any form of martial arts or anything) or at least scream until my voice gave out but my attacker spoke first.

"I've been calling your name for like five minutes, Jesus Christ are you deaf?" Did I say attacker? I should have said crazy stalker, for it was none other than Troy Bolton sole object of my deepest loathing. Although I did feel kinda bad for rejecting him, maybe I could just semi-loath him or something.

"Well actually I am partially deaf in my left ear." I really am, I can't hear anything under twenty decibels with my left ear, an interesting fact but not something I was planning on sharing with the world.

"Really?" Troy actually seemed interested, which kind of freaked me out, "Um, but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. It's about the compatibility test I think that-"

"It's a load of crap." I finished for him. See, I'm not being polite just like I told myself last night. Troy feel the wrath of Gabriella, uh huh that's right she's rejecting you. Folks, this is just a glimpse into my life, remember that. You have no idea how pathetic I really am.

"No I don't think so," Oh God, didn't this guy know how to take a hint? Even when I practically spelled it out for him he was hopeless, "Maybe we're not meant to be a couple but the test isn't wrong. Maybe we're just compatible as friends." Then he gave me this, this _look. _It was like a mix of puppy dog eyes and 'We both know I'm right', suffice it to say I had to laugh.

"Nice speech, you like English right?" I had him now, how could someone with such a way with words not like English?

"Nah, I'm failing. Can't stand Romeo and Juliet." Damn, I'll never understand him, will I ever learn that? No I'll probably spend the rest of my life trying to figure out what he'll do next, oh man this is not the direction I wanted my life to go in…

I was pondering my new nightmare life when Troy grabbed my shoulders again, it seemed that I had nearly run into a bulletin board and the two people standing in front of it. The blonde girl just kinda smiled weirdly at me (like a fake-ish quickie smile, you know the kind?) while the guy wrote his name on one of the sign up sheets that was tacked up there.

"Who are they?" I asked when we had cleared a distance of about ten feet. I had seen the girl strutting around the hallway and just figured that she was a cheerleader, the super-inflated ego is pretty common in their crowd, but cheerleaders never signed up for anything other than cheerleading. At least that's how it was in every other school I went to but leave it to East High to encourage clique integration.

"Sharpay and her brother Ryan, co-presidents of the Drama Club and the leads every year." I had heard some pretty weird names in my life time (most of them happened to belong to celebrity's children, I mean Pilot Inspektor, Fifi Trixibelle, Tallulah Pine, Apple, Diva Muffin, come on) but none of them beat _Sharpay _(well maybe Diva Muffin did but at least she wasn't named after a dog…just you know, a muffin).

"I love musicals! I'm gonna go introduce myself." One of the things that's actually good about me; I can sing. I'm talking American Idol here and I love musicals. Wicked, Smile, Oliver, The Lion King, A Chorus Line, I've seem 'em all. It would be cool to have a friend who loved musicals as much as I did.

"That's not really-" I walked over to Sharpay leaving Troy to overreact by himself.

"Hi my name's Gabriella. I'm new here." I smiled and stuck out my hand, with any luck this girl would get the impression that I was actually normal. Or she'd know right away that I never received the normal gene from my parents. Eh, she'd find out sooner or later either way.

Blondie snorted (making her look and sound like a _very_ primped pig) and pulled her hands up to her face (like she was disgusted with me, can you imagine?), "Like I care?"

Can we say major snob? On the bright side she _was_ talking to me, however degrading her words were. Even the mean people were kind of nice here, I was getting to like this place. Now that Sharpay and I had engaged in conversation I felt it was my sole duty to keep it going.

"Well I love musicals, I was even thinking of signing up this year. Are there any good supporting roles?" What? Were you thinking that I was actually going to sign up for a lead? Me? No way, I'd probably end up setting the stage on fire or something.

I was just congratulating myself on saying the right thing when Sharpay smiled, and not the nice friendly kind of smile either. The kind that meant that you going to get gravy poured on your head at lunch or glue poured down your back in art or something even more horrible that hadn't happened to me yet. This was not good, almost worse than not being able to read Troy. Almost.

"Sorry darling, the sign up sheet and auditions for the cast were up yesterday. You shouldn't sign up today…unless you _want_ to be a lead that is." All of this was relayed in a sickly sweet voice that seriously told me that the girl needed a few acting lessons and Presidents of the Drama Club shouldn't need acting lessons.

"That's okay Sharpay, she doesn't want to sign up. Gabriella's just new and trying to find her place, you know?" Aww how sweet Troy was rushing to my defense, didn't he see how this was going to implement in Sharpay's mind that I was weak? Didn't he know that she was going to mercilessly torture me for the rest of my life (my life, or lack there of, in Albuquerque anyway)? What kind of friend would do that, not a very smart one let me tell you.

"Oh but Troy we'd love to have you in the musical!" Same disgustingly sweet voice and Troy was eating it up. Maybe everyone in East High was just stupid, Sharpay didn't have to be a great (or even good) actress to impress idiots, "I'm sure that we could find a great part for you! Right Ryan?" Oh yeah, the brother. I forgot about him, I wonder if he gets that a lot? I can totally imagine it, 'Who are you again?', 'I don't recall you, have we met?', 'Have you seen someone named Ryan around here? Sharpay told me to talk to him.'. This Ryan guy and I could have a serious connection here, he could be my gay best friend (if we're judging his orientation by his looks)! Oh man that would be so cool.

"Sure Sharpay, but he'd have to try out for a lead, single auditions were yesterday."

Troy didn't look very comfortable with the idea, perfect for revenge (he did practically give Sharpay an opening to hate me). I mean worst case scenario his voice sucks and he doesn't get a part, it's not gonna kill him.

"That sounds great! This is going to be so fun!" I squealed in my best Sharpay imitation, which considering the fact that I'd met her five minutes ago was pretty damn good. Grabbing the pen dangling from the board I filled in our names under Sharpay's immense (and incredibly illegible) signature which (surprise!) was the only one there. Well Ryan's was there too but we've already established his non importance.

"You are _so_ dead." she whispered to me in the scariest voice I had ever heard a Paris Hilton wannabe use. Must remember to show no fear, show no fear, show _no_ fear. I needed a cool reply, something that would make her jaw drop.

"See you all in auditions tomorrow!" I called merrily, hopeing to God that the try outs really were tomorrow. Oh right, snappy comeback…

"Nice penmanship…_darling_" Not my best work but hey, she was glaring at me! I was under pressure.

Tomorrow was going to suck.

**Please review! I love hearing what you guys think remember con/crit and anonymous reviews are welcome!**


	4. Dream Journal

**Sorry guys but schools started again which means my updates will most likey only happen on week ends. I'll try for weekly updates but my work load is promising to be insane this year so we'll just have to see what happens.**

Diaries are stupid.

Why would I pour all of my feelings into a stupid book that anyone could read? There are only so many places that a person can hide a diary (all of which I would probably forget about, effectively losing said diary). My point is that my mom tried to give me one yesterday so I could 'embrace my feelings about the pressures and struggles of living in this fast paced society of ours'. It sounded like she wanted me to write a book not my innermost personal feelings. Although I _am_ still debating whether she was high or not (right now I'm leaning towards guilt and 'good parenting' books).

My first and (I assure you) only attempt went something like this;

* * *

Dear Diary, 

…Screw this.

* * *

So I decided to think outside the box, outside the circle, even outside the octagon…I'm using the diary as a dream journal (you know in case I ever want to psychoanalyze myself or something). And man have I got a good one to write in my first ever entry, excluding my attempt to use it as a normal diary that is. Do I have to start it with 'Dear Dream Journal'? Not if I don't want to right?

I wish the internet had answers to stuff like this instead of porn sites and stuff. You know what, it's my dream journal I'll do want I want. And I choose not to write it (take _that_ diary writer…people, is that what they're called?)!

* * *

_Dear Dream Journal _(Have I no spine?),

_I walked into lunch and sat down next to Taylor like I've done for the past two weeks. I'm pretty sure we were talking about random unimportant stuff because I don't really remember it, it might have been about…our lunch (just a guess there)? All of a sudden one of the basketball guys stood up (no it wasn't Troy, I don't even think he was at the table when it happened) and he started to sing (no really he did, he wasn't bad either)._

_"You can bet there's nothing' but net  
When I am in the zone and on a roll  
But I've got a confession  
My own secret obsession  
And it's makin' me lose control"_

_I turned to Taylor as the other jocks urged everyone to come listen to the guy, "Is…Is he singing?"_

_"Oh yeah, they do that sometimes." She shrugged and went back to eating her sandwich as if some crazy singer basketball player wasn't a big deal. Yeah, right. As it turned out the guy liked to bake and I quote 'strudels, scones, even apple pandowdy' (I don't think that's even a real pastry) and Crème Brule, whatever that is (if I don't know what it is how can I dream about it…weird). I was seriously freaked now, so of course Martha had to start singing._

_"Look at me and what do you see?  
Intelligence beyond compare  
But inside I am stirring  
Something strange is occurring  
It's a secret I need to share"_

_Without even looking up from her lunch Taylor joined the rest of my table in encouraging this freak fest. Where was the rational, no nonsense Taylor I knew? Why was everyone singing? And why couldn't I have a normal dream once in a while?_

_Martha likes to dance apparently and no offense to her or anything but…HUH? Since when do homework loving nerds dance? Since never that's when and I'd like it to stay that way thank you very much._

_"Listen well, I'm ready to tell  
About a need that I cannot deny  
Dude there's no explanation  
For this awesome sensation  
But I'm ready to let it fly"_

_At first I admit that I thought the newest singer (a long haired guy who looked kind of wasted yet innocent at the same time) was talking about drugs or sex or something illegal at first. But no, his 'awesome sensation' was nothing less than playing the cello. Talk about a freeing experience. And now the same idiots (dream Taylor included) that were just supporting their friends-who had randomly (if you ask me…and it was my dream…) burst into song-were now singing about the status quo. Some of them had even started dancing…on tables. I'm sorry but that will never happen in a million years, a million billion years (yes, I am aware that I sound like a three year old in denial)._

_Then Sharpay was leaning against the railing of the second story (because even though we have such safety measures as 'no heels higher than two inches' at our school, let's build a two story cafeteria then only use a flimsy bar to keep students from falling). And actually she did. Fall I mean, my self appointed worst enemy (I probably would have ended up hating her anyway but you never know…) opened her mouth to sing (I assume, I mean everyone else was singing and I _am _a creature of habit and this was my dream so it makes sense), leaned farther over the rail (idiot), and fell. I'm serious, the railing snapped and down she toppled._

_Which is probably why I woke up laughing._

_Until my next dream,_

_Gabriella_

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They say that dreams are usually based on internal feelings, repressed fears, old grudges, excitement that the hottest guy in the school is trying out for the musical with you (you know, the usual). Then again I don't actually know who 'they' are so I might be misinformed. Assuming that I'm not though (and honestly how often am I wrong?) what is my dream trying to tell me? 

I found out at lunch the day. My dreams are telling me that I have ESP (sweetness!).

It started out like any other normal lunch period, after buying my lunch I passed the jock's (coughTroy'scough…ahem) lunch table heading towards my own when I caught a snippet of their conversation.

"I was in the zone man. I'm serious ten baskets, nothing but net each time."

"No way."

"Wanna bet…" At this point I had started hyperventilating and hurried off to my own table. I was still trying to convince myself that I was just imagining it or something when Taylor interrupted my train of thought.

"What are you looking at?" Apparently I was still staring at their table, a split second later her eyes connected with the group of jocks and cheerleaders who were (for lack of a better term) freaking out, "What are they _doing_?"

Exactly what they were doing I found out when Martha came back. She had left the table to find out what was up and she had been gone for a good five minutes. I was starting to wonder if she had suddenly gone crazy or fallen in love with a British guy (I've heard those Brits are bad news) and gone to elope with him or something. The good news is there's no guy (British or American actually), the bad news is the uproar is about the guy (I guess there is a guy...) who scored ten baskets and guess what?

He bakes.

Good old Martha didn't even give me any freak out time though. Nope, she just launched right into a story about loving Ballet and Tap dancing but then she wasn't any good so she tried hip hop. And surprise, she loves it but was afraid to tell us before.

Now call me old fashioned but I personally feel that we (geeks, nerds, dorks, losers…the list goes on) should not partake in any sports (ping-pong is fine cheerleading is not). We're just not equipped to handle them, we shut ourselves in a room and read, therefore not using our muscles (though after turning thousands of pages in books my hands are surprisingly strong). Bottom line, Martha had forsaken her duties to people like us everywhere. And why? So she could 'pop, lock, jam, and break' (it sounds like a burglary technique, not a dance one).

Of course by now I was completely insane, after all I had found myself with unwanted psychic abilities and one of my friends was ummm…jamming (or was it breaking?)…on the table (while everyone else yelled at her to get off).

The punk-y/ Emo (Mohawk wearing, skinny jean clad, black shirts…you know the kind) people two tables down joined the chaos when one of their members refused to hang out after school because of _cello_ practice (I don't know if you've ever seen a cello but it looks like a giant violin, seriously you could murder someone with one of those things).

And then Sharpay came into the picture, I guess she was trying to sing one of her songs from a past musical but I couldn't hear her over all the noise (I think the whole cafeteria was arguing by now and Martha was still dancing, I was trying not to look at that). Apparently neither could she because she approached the railing (and I admit I was kinda hoping she would fall).

"EVERYBODY QUIET! A girl can't hear herself sing with all this noise." She huffed after every single person in the whole room fell silent, for such a Barbie that girl has a dominating presence. Stupid Troy and his bad timing had to pick that exact moment to walk in. Then, I don't know how he spotted me, I was one of hundreds, (maybe it was my electric blue and lime green striped shirt, I'm talking big fat blinding stripes) but he did.

"Gabriella? What's going on?" Um hello? Did I look like I knew? Oh my God, I thought, what if Troy had ESP too? What if he was reading my mind right now? I tried not to think about how good he looked at the moment.

"Dude, it's you!" Baker-boy shouted out to him, "We heard about the audition. I hope you make in man." Word travels fast in this school, we hadn't even done the audition yet.

"Yeah if you can sing I can dance!" Martha called out before we (finally) pulled her down from the table.

Making my way over to Troy I attempted to settle the crowd, "No, no really it's fine. Go back to your lunches, forget about baking, dancing, and music! Just…be one with your clique!" My words were met with a huge uproar, I guess wanting order was in the minority of student interest.

"Hey, this is kinda crazy. Wanna escape before Sharpay murders us?" Troy asked motioning towards a side door, truthfully anywhere would be better than the cafeteria, students were yelling (and dancing) again. I had something important to say first though.

"Troy I think I have ESP." Upon seeing his blank expression though I switched tactics, "I think I'm pschic."

"Oh, that's cool. C'mon." Was all he had to say on this very important matter. You'd think he'd at least want to know how I knew, but I didn't care if he never mentioned it again, you know why?

Because at that moment I'm (nearly) positive that he meant it.

**Please Review! I simply adore (do I sound like Ms. Darbus?) hearing what you all think about this fic. I can't stress enough how much con/crit and encouragement help me!**


	5. Allergies

**So so so sorry that I didn't update sooner! My computer broke and I've been having trouble re-writing a new chapter (my old version of this chapter got erased...twice). But now it's finished and hopefully better than ever. Again sorry for the late update. **

"So this is the place you were raving about?" Frankly I didn't see what was so great about it. Basically Troy and I were in a small green house brimming with plants. The hike up two flights of stairs and the fact that I could already feel my allergies acting up didn't do much for me either.

"I don't remember raving about it, but yeah this is it." Troy spread his arms wide as if embracing the whole room, which was kind of creepy. I never took Troy to be much of a gardener. Apparently he was though.

I on the other hand couldn't stay far enough away from nature. I'm not being hypocritical either if that's what you're thinking. After an incident with a gardening shovel (and a badly sliced finger), an unwanted (to say the least) meeting with an earthworm (normally I don't mind bugs but this thing was _huge_), and not to mention my allergies to anything and everything flora (and most things fauna), I could safely say that Mother Nature hated me with a burning passion. I could only hope Troy wouldn't feel the same way about me after the auditions which were looming closer every minute.

"So…you garden?" Have I mentioned that I'm a really great ice breaker? Seriously at parties I'm always the one who gets people talking (granted they're usually talking about how weird I am but still, at least they're talking).

"…No. I found this place last year, never seen anyone up here but me." Oh my god. Did anyone else catch that? Troy didn't use a complete sentence (or even proper English for that matter), which is my biggest pet peeve ever. Seriously. Never use incomplete sentences around me, it sends me into a blind rage; there's really nothing anyone can do to calm me down. One time this guy asked me out (amazing I know, but he _was_ one of those super dorks who don't ever get any physical activity in and so they're kinda pasty looking…) but he was stuttering a lot (I don't know why, maybe it was my outfit, I was considering being emo but I didn't want to be really hard core you know? So I just wore my bangs to the side and one of those spiky belts, but the belt got uncomfortable so I took it off and put it in my hair as a fashion accessory. Also I didn't want to look too emo-ish so I wore a bright pink shirt with kittens on it. That was my mistake I take full blame for that one) and the guy jumbled his words together, creating an incomplete and incomprehensible sentence. Needless to say I went crazy, I was screaming and yelling, later on one of my kind-of friends told me I had slapped him.

Alright no, that didn't happen, the guy asked me out and I said that I was going through an emotionally stressing time because my grandmother had recently died (she hadn't) and I wasn't ready to commit to a serious relationship. But hey, it could have happened. You never really know.

I was planning on correcting him but before I could my allergies really kicked and my nose started running, we're not talking little itty bitty garden hose people, I mean it was like the Colorado River. In a (futile) attempt to cover it up I turned away from Troy and he of course turned toward me.

"Gabriella," he said warily (I guess I wasn't being subtle enough), "Is something wrong?" Oh no Troy nothing, nothing at all. That's what I meant to say but as luck would have it my nose distorted my voice so I sounded like an alien.

"Oh do Droy, dothin', dothin' atol."

"Are you sure? 'Cause you sound…" He trailed off obviously at a loss for words. Not that I really blame him, I know what it's like to stuck speechless by allergies (granted that I'm stuck speechless because I'm too busy gasping for breath while Troy wasn't talking because he was too busy thinking about what a giant freak I am…). Maybe it was time to let him in on my allergies, he really had the right to know (and I was nearly sure that I was going to break out in hives pretty soon).

"Ub, well agtully I hab sub alledies to plats." I told him.

"You're allergic to…what? Blats?" We were obviously going to have some communication issues whenever plants were involved. Be as that may I was trying to get through to him. Gesturing to the numerous green leafed _death traps_ (normal people refer to them as plants but since when have I been normal?) I tried again.

"Da plats! I'b allerdic to da plats!" I even went as far as to grab the leaf of one such 'plat' before I saw comprehension dawn on Troy's face. For a rather smart boy he could really be an idiot sometimes (relatively speaking, after all I didn't realize until later that night that I could have walked out of the room and Troy probably would have followed me).

"Gabriella," he groaned in what I could only assume was exasperation, "You should have told me. We could have left."

Now I would have answered him (what civilized person wouldn't have, I ask you) but I began wheezing and let me tell you, it's practically impossible to talk while you're gasping for breath (but I'm sure some of you already knew that). In lieu of actually speaking to Troy I did the next best thing, I ran out of the room. So all in all that was just one big giant disaster (but it _is_ me so what more did you honestly expect?). All I can say is that I'm lucky I didn't develop hives or anything.

Although I was running through the (mostly) empty hallways (it was still fifth period after all) at my top speed Troy quickly caught up to me. It must have been his jock speed; I am a pretty fast runner after all (except when you know I'm having an allergic reaction). I wanted to throw my hands over my face and scream 'don't look at me!' but even for someone such as myself that's a little over the top. At about that time I remembered my bag of 'safety tissues' (hypoallergenic of course), took them out before Troy could even open his mouth, and promptly blew my nose (rather loudly I'm afraid, one of the study hall monitors down the hall stuck her head out the door).

"Gabriella, why didn't you just tell me you were allergic to the pollen?" He asked and I could see the ghosts of tears glimmering in his eyes as blue as the ocean that hugs the land and his concern for me was quite apparent. Or maybe it was because I had just sneezed in his face and was standing on his foot, who can honestly say?

"I'm not just allergic to pollen; it's also the sap from some trees and the soil that the potters use. There are other things as well but those are the three really big ones. You might want to know what else I'm allergic to as well right? Well let's see, most animal dander, but I have one of those hairless cats and he's fine, dust, which is really just decaying skin you know, strawberries, I'm not that allergic to those I just get hives that's all, which I guess is kinda bad isn't it? And Purel hand sanitizer, I have no idea of what I'm allergic to in it though it's not the alcohol and I've read the ingredients on the back and I just don't get it. Thank god I'm not allergic to nuts though that would really suck, cause then I'd have to sit at the peanut free table with all those people I don't know and that would just be freaky. So Troy do you have any aller-" At this point in my (what I now realize was an exceedingly long, and slightly one sided one hundred seventy and one-half word long) rant Troy interrupted me. That boy can be so rude sometimes.

"Gabriella?"

"Troy don't interrupt me. It's very rude and no one likes it." That stung him I'm sure, but he has to learn manners. If I don't teach him who will? His mother? I doubt it, kids these days don't get enough discipline from their parents, I should know (my own mother unintentionally being one of those parents). I practically taught myself right from wrong (all those kids shows on Nick Jr. helped, but how should I know if Troy learned with Little Bear or enhanced his thinking skills with Blue's Clues?).

"No, Gabriella the bell rang. I have to go to math." And suddenly I noticed the masses of teenage adolescents swarming around us, jostling me from side to side. Strangely I had talked so much I had missed the bell, and it was all Bolton's fault (notice the way I called him by his last name, ooh chilling).

"Well then…I'll just head over to science…then. See you at the auditions!"

I do believe I then heard Troy Bolton sigh. But that might have only been my imangination.

**Neither I nor anyone in my family is allergic to any thing so I basically BSed my way through that part, I hope it at least sounded convincing. So with out further ado please review! **


	6. Science and Sharpay

A/N: Should I start out with how sorry I am that this chapter is so late? Or maybe I should apologize for the (lack of) length in this chapter. At any rate my excuse is that I'm over-exerting myself this year and have too much homework to write regularly. I really don't want to put this fic on hiatus so hopefully you can all bear with me on this.(The bold isn't working today, sorry 'bout that)

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Imagine the deepest darkest pit of hell, so dark that even a spot light will only slice a thin beam of light through the air. So deep that even though you're in a burning pit of death you're cold. Colder than you've ever been in your life, it's so cold that you're wishing to be back in the burning wasteland you started out in. Just when you've lost all thoughts of living a tiny doorway of hope opens up. You run to it until you think that your lungs might burst but you don't care because you know it means that soon you'll be out of this horrible world. With your last ounce of strength and will power you leap towards that portal of hope, only to find that it's disappeared. Now your right back where you started but you're in pain as well.

That pretty much sums up science with Sharpay.

Before I met this girl I didn't think anyone could be as mean as those popular girls in the movies are. I mean I've seen 'Mean Girls' and the title doesn't lie but Sharpay makes those girls seem like, I don't know…_angels_. I could honestly imagine her making Regina cry. You know, if Regina was real and all (and if she was in our science class, which she isn't). Unfortunately I am.

I walked into class and took my usual seat, the third row back next to Taylor. I love science (ahem…it's apparently called chemistry here), I love the way I can use math to solve equations, I love the way chemicals react with each other, I love the way our class room always smells like burnt matches, I love the way the most prominent carving on my desk clearly reads 'I ♥ Troy Bolton' (I didn't write it but I liked to pretend that I did), I loved the way Sharpay sat on the other side of the room. Yes, sadly you read that right;_ loved_.

Sharpay is an idiot. While she didn't use those exact words that's basically the gist of what Mrs. Loesher (now in my mind Mrs. Loser) said to me. Well gee, you think? I don't believe the girl can even comprehend the most _basic_ formula, much less the relatively complicated ones we're doing now (at least Taylor tells me they're hard, I don't think so). To make a long story short, Sharpay is my new lab partner (neither of us is particularly happy about this as you might imagine). Sharpay's reaction to the news (which I, regardless of my protests, had to deliver to her) was to declare her old lab partner (who I believe was also failing) a 'freaking asshole' (I guess he wanted to have a smart partner such as Taylor). My own reaction? I at least had the decency to…yeah no, basically I yelled 'WHAT?' at the top of my lungs and proceeded to list all the (fifty-seven) reasons why I should not be Sharpay's lab partner (apparently something bad _can_ come of having a one-hundred and three percent in a class). Ever. Ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever (and that's just after one day with her).

Mrs. Loesher didn't agree with me though, so I was forced to go sit next to the reason why I was sure I was going to hate Science from now on. And believe me the girl wasted no time proving me absolutely correct. As soon as I sat down she glanced over at me.

"Listen up ok? You're going to do the work and then you're going to share your answers with me," I opened my mouth to tell her that over my dead body was I going to let her copy off of me (I mean what do I look like? A walking text book that says 'I'm smart, be my lab partner'? That was a bad analogy, never mind) but she cut me off. She cut me off and I didn't have the guts to tell her off like I did to Troy. What can I say, he's about a foot taller but she's a hell of a lot scarier, "Don't even try to tell me no because if I fail this quarter…" She let her sentence hang threateningly in mid air but some inexplicable force of courage shot through me.

"You'll what?" I scoffed (can you imagine? Me? Scoffing? Had hell frozen over? Was the devil ice skating? Can the devil even ice skate?) "Get your brother to beat me up? Or maybe it would just be easier if you did it. Oh but then you'd break a nail, wouldn't you?" I had never been this mean to anyone before, it was like Sharpay had taken over my mind and was torturing herself (well maybe not quite like that, after all Sharpay thinks she's pretty important).

"Gabriella! I moved you over here so that Sharpay would pay more attention. Do you girls have something you'd like to share with the class?" Mrs. Loesher hovered over us casting me in her shadow. Since Sharpay looked like she was planning to kill me I thought this would be an excellent time to provide a cover story (I was wrong but how was I supposed to know that Sharpay would- well you'll see).

"We were just talking about Sir Isaac Newton's third law, for every action there is an opposite reaction." I smiled elbowing Sharpay playfully- I shouldn't have done that. She smiled along with me while mercilessly grinding her heel into my foot, at least the (purple) Uggs that I was wearing provided some protection (she didn't break my foot at any rate).

I was planning to escape to French (which I'm taking because I already know Spanish and can't stand German, I would have loved to take Latin but was mortified when my sixth grade foreign language teacher made me read the numbers one through ten out loud. If you've ever seen the Latin number for six then you know what I'm talking about, if not then I believe that you're lucky. At any rate I was too embarrassed to go through my high school carrier counting with that number- but I've matured now and… am very happy to be taking French)as soon as the bell rang but Sharpay had other plans. She roughly grabbed my arm (the girl has a vice like grip, she's like a G.I. Joe underneath that Barbie exterior) and spun me around. Her face was (waaaaaaaay) twisted into an expression that I thought only those ugly smush faced dogs could master.

"You- you bitch!" She hissed "I am going to make your life a living hell." I don't know how many of you out there have been threatened like this before but let me tell you, it's scary. In any case I decided that it might be a good time to make amends (yes I know looking back I might have been a little slow on the uptake, I fully blame that fact that I stood up for myself for my misery). Gently removing her finger nails from my arm (I had claw marks on my arm for the remainder of the day) I smiled.

"Sharpay you actually have that covered pretty well right now so maybe you and I could just forget that our little science mishap ever happened. What do you say?" I didn't think it was possible to laugh and grimace at the same time but Sharpay it seems, defies the laws of nature. I suppose it's natural for her to feel the need to defy things since her name disregards the laws that govern the naming of children (I mean seriously that must have been one amazing dog, assuming that she is named after a dog that is).

"Alright Gabriella let's be…_ friends_." I obviously hadn't thought this through or else I'd be safely sitting my French room dreading what Sharpay was going to do to me. Now I was standing in the middle of a hallway three minutes away from my French class with only two minutes to get there.

"Since we're…buddies now I assume you'll be dropping out of the auditions." She continued, examining her nails (I was surprised they weren't dripping with my blood, it's like she sharpens them at night or something). Have I mentioned how I didn't think this through? Yeah, I thought so.

"Sorry Sharpay, no can do." Give up my chance to hang out with Troy Bolton? I didn't think so.

"Well then," And she actually smiled, "Welcome to Hell."

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Normally I would beg for reviews at this point but that obviously isn't working, so I won't be doing that any more. 


	7. Detention Fun

Sorry again for the late update, what can I say? School sucks. And thank you to every one who reviewed the last chapter, you guys are the best! Also, Lil-Evans helped me with the Spanish in this chapter, thank you so much, it was much appreciated!

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After I finally managed to escape Sharpay I tore down the hallway (I may have knocked over a freshman or two, I definitely ran into a senior) but I was still late to French. So I got a detention. Fortunately Taylor, being the amazing person she is, saw Sharpay talking to me and decided to wait for me. Unfortunately, she was late too. So now we both had detention during our ninth period study hall with this Darbus lady that Taylor assured me was crazy (a bit of foreshadowing here, she wasn't lying). 

I had never in my life had detention before (I was a good student, top of my class, I shuddered to think what some of my old teachers would say about me now) and I wasn't the only one. Taylor had a small break down in the bathroom on our way there; her words weren't exactly intelligible and I don't even want to repeat what she called Sharpay (because somehow it was Sharpay's fault that she stood around the corner of the hallway waiting for me). Being the strong person that I am I didn't cry about the detention (I've always suspected that my mom has always wanted me to get a detention, what with all the detention stories she fondly tells me. 'Those were the best days of school, Gabriella, those days that I had detentions.' Of course smoking pot was also acceptable back then so…) but I did almost start bawling when I realized that I had no idea how to get to the auditorium (our detention site) and Taylor was in no state to help me. One detention I can deal with, I mean collages ignore it if there's just one on your record right? But two detentions (I assumed I would get another detention if I was late to this one)? I might as well just settle for a community college.

Then the bell rang. So community college it was.

"What's this? Gabriella Montez is…late?" As soon as I heard that familiar voice (isn't funny that I've only known Troy for about a week or two and yet I feel like I've known him forever? Alright no, it's not funny its clichéd and pathetic but so what? I've seen the movies I know how these things work out!) I spun around (and almost dislocated Taylor's arm in the process).

"Troy! I know your already late, which I don't condone by the way, so I'll make this quick. Where the hell is the auditorium?" It's actually a good thing I ran into Troy when I did because if I hadn't then I wouldn't know where the auditorium was when it came time for the auditions (oh god where they really in forty minutes?). Troy smiled and took my arm in his (like they do in line dancing, I wondered if Troy was into that, line dancing I mean) leaving Chad, his team mate who I'd only met a few times, alone with Taylor.

"Follow me, Chad and I were just on our way there." What choice did I have? I followed him like an obedient puppy, something which I'm glad Taylor didn't notice seeing as she was too busy trying to ignore whatever idiocy was spilling form his lips (not that Chad's stupid though, he just seems to act like an idiot around Taylor…I don't know why but I think Troy teases him about it sometimes). After a semi-awkward pause in which Troy seemed to notice that we still had our arms linked (but he didn't drop his arm so I didn't drop mine) he spoke again.

"Hey Gabriella, what's someone who doesn't 'condone' things like being late doing to get detention?" Naturally I didn't want to tell him that I'd been late to a class (can you imagine the embarrassment?) but I didn't want to lie either. I'm pretty bad at lying to people I like anyway, my face gets all red and I stammer (if it's someone I don't like I _can_ lie though, strange right?) and I can't even lie to my mom. Seriously I try and no sound comes out. I think the way I got out of this one was pretty clever actually.

"Well…estaba hablando con Sharpay y la campana sonó. Yo llegué tarde a la clase de Francés y Mademoiselle Fleming, que, a propósito, me odia, me puso una detención. Ah, y a Taylor también porque ella estaba conmigo". I was hoping to god that Troy didn't take Spanish (because you know most people do) but I couldn't have done that in French, I suck at French.

"Gabriella I have no idea what you just said." So my gamble paid off, not that I condone gambling either (I made my mom stop buying lottery tickets, she didn't get that she was never going to win. If I hadn't stepped in we might be poor and living on the streets right now).

We stopped at what looked like the doors to the gymnasium but when Troy opened them I could see that it was much different. The room itself was huge, there must have been like, thirty rows of chairs (give or take ten rows) and the stage rose up like a ship over the sea of seats. On the stage kids of all grades were painting props or sitting around doing their homework. It was the most avant-garde detention I had ever seen, to say the least.

Of course when I met the woman who was running things I began to understand a little bit better. Ms. Darbus was a stereo typical theater person, dramatic and a little bit eccentric; I actually liked her regardless of what Taylor had said.

"Umm hi I'm Gabriella Montez. I'm sorry we're late (I gestured to Troy, Chad, and Taylor who had caught up with me) but-" With a sweep of her scarf (why do theater people always have scarves? Is it like a symbol of being involved in the theater? Is it how they know if there's an imposter among them?) she cut me off (people, I've noticed, do that very well here in Albuquerque).

"The theater waits for no one." She informed me simply before walking away. Which left us standing awkwardly in the middle of the stage with nothing to do.

"Well, I don't have any homework." Chad said before walking over to a leafless tree.

"Me neither, well none worth doing anyway." Troy followed him; it was strange because I had pegged Troy to be the studious type (though maybe not so studious as myself or Taylor). Curse this inability of mine to figure that guy out.

"Oh crap," Taylor moaned, "I forgot my math book in my locker. Ms. Darbus! Ms. Darbus!" She called running after her. So again I had nothing to do. I sat next to a box and only began painting it when Ms. Darbus shoved a paintbrush in my hands and clapped in my face.

"You're not here to reflect about what you've done. I have a show to put on and I need my props suitably painted!" And here I was thinking that I _was_ here to reflect on what I had done. Stupid me, of course I should have been painting…

And I did paint, for about the next three minutes (I was painting with blue paint by the way. Who paints a box in blue paint?) until Taylor came back and practically fed me a piece of paper (it really was that close to my face). She squealed a few times and hugged me.

"Of course you can join Gabriella! You could have just asked though and I would have said yes but now that I've seen your credentials I simply won't take no for an answer!" The girl had obviously gone mad; there wasn't any other explanation (maybe she was channeling her inner-Darbus).

"What are these?" I quickly grabbed and scanned the papers that she was holding in my face. They seemed to be various papers (news articles I think) praising my genius. Why did I let my mother convince me to join that decathlon in ninth grade? 'We're moving in two months' she'd said, 'It can't possibly hurt you.' Well guess what mom, you were wrong.

"Gabriella! We'd love to have you on the Mathletes!" Taylor squealed again, all this squealing of hers was highly unpleasant. It kind of reminded me of a Sharpay/pig mix. It also annoyed me because, you know, I'm trying to be cool around Troy and I highly doubt that he's gonna want to hang out with a mathlete.

"Taylor!" I hissed, "Not so loud, Troy's right over there!" I kind of gesture-pointed to him and he waved. Naturally I waved back and when I turned around Taylor was rolling her eyes.

"Are you serious? Guys like Troy Bolton don't like girls like us." She told me, which I thought was kind of mean, I mean I had seen her walking with Chad (Well I hadn't actually _seen_her, but I had heard her and for all Taylors insults she likes him, I know it. I can actually understand the way Taylors mind works, so I know I'm right), and Troy I were currently friends so he had to like me a little bit. Right?

"Troy and I are friends; we're trying out for the musical. Remember?" And I could tell that she _hadn't_ remembered because her eyes got all wide and she shoved the papers in my hands.

"Right, well I have to get back to my math. Think about joining us, ok?" She walked off. I was just thinking that my life would be easier if all I had to do was paint my box when Ms. Darbus called all of us to the center of the stage. I took my place between Troy and Taylor and turned my attention to the insane lady in the scarf (we've covered the scarves, right?). Yeah because I noticed that Sharpay and Ryan we're standing behind Ms. Darbus, (when had they gotten there?) and _they were both wearing scarves_. I'm telling you if Troy and I make it into the musical I'm buying us scarves so that we don't get beat up by crazy drama freaks.

"I believe the props have been sufficiently taken take of?" She asked it like a question but no one dared to contradict her (for fear of actually having to paint the props I believe), "Good. Then let us partake in some exercises to loosen the body. Become an animal! Follow Sharpay and Ryan, they've volunteered their time to help convert you all the thespians!" She announced. Now loving grammar as I do I knew that thespian meant somebody who acts on the stage or relating to the theater or the profession of acting (yes I have read section of the dictionary, don't ask, please), but I saw Troy and Chad exchange glances. Sharpay strutted around the stage as a flamingo (or was it a stork?) and Ryan scampered all over as a dog. Troy and Chad were monkey-ing around (literally) and Taylor pretended to pull her head into her 'shell' as a turtle. Sighing I crept into a dark corner and widened my eyes (I've always identified with the lesser mouse lemur.

This school was turning my life upside down.


	8. The Auditions

**Sorry for the late update...again. We don't have school this week so even though the week's almost over I'll try to get another chapter finished. Again all I can say is sorry. **

I've never been deaf (partially deaf in my left ear yes but completely deaf? No, never). In fact up until I found myself hunched over in the back of the auditorium (next to Troy I might add) I'd never really considered it. But I really have to say, if I ever have to listen to some of those people sing again I may just bust my eardrums myself. Trust me, that was not an exaggeration.

"IT'S HARD TO BELIEVE!" Even as far back as we were (I could hear the girl better than I could see her and I have twenty-twenty vision) the girl that was on the stage was too loud, way too loud. She was like one of those sirens from Greek mythology but instead of luring men to her she would probably drive them as far away as possible. Ms. Darbus apparently agreed with me quickly assuring the girl that her audition was over and no, she really didn't need to hear another song.

"See Troy you really couldn't be worse than her." I turned to him in an attempt to give him some means of comfort. If the way his face paled slightly I'd say that I probably failed. It was funny; I'd never pegged him for someone with stage fright. That was kinda my thing after all, see this one time I got a solo in church choir and when I went on stage to sing… Well it started out fine but then a quarter of the way through I actually opened my eyes, it all kind of went downhill from there. Yet I'm the one who wanted to try out for this thing? I was beginning to feel that it might be a good time to rethink this.

Which of course meant I needed to weigh the good against the bad. Okay good: More time to spend with Troy, possibly show up Sharpay, if not the leads then at least smaller parts (which is what I want anyway), and I really want to do this. Bad: Troy might really suck at singing, I might faint/throw up, Sharpay will probably kill/maim me, Ms. Darbus is pretty scary, and then of course there's the whole probably setting the stage on fire thing. The bad outweighed the good but then again I really did want to try out. But I really didn't want to set the stage on fire. I guess I'm right back where I started. So that was pretty useless.

"Uh Troy. I was thinking, maybe we…" I started but I found that I couldn't continue. I still couldn't decide what I wanted to do.

"Should skip this?" He asked hopefully.

"Well…" I was usually so decisive I had no idea what was wrong with me. I mean usually I know exactly what I want for dinner (Chinese takeout or my mom's homemade casserole, which would you choose?) when I want to go to sleep, who I want to hang out with…just everything. And Troy was just…screwing everything up (what did you think I was going to be swooning over him? Please I wasn't _that_ far gone).

"C'mon let's go." Troy stood up and offered me his hand. I took it (because hello? I wasn't just going to pass up on an offer to hold his hand…oh God, maybe I really was _that_ far gone) and he led me out of the room. Now our auditorium is a little weird, there's a big archway that you have to go through to get to the doors. We had just turned the corner when Sharpay and Ryan took the stage.

I had turned around because I had heard snapping and thought that someone had seen us leaving. It turned out that it was just Sharpay and Ryan, they had a whole dance and microphones and everything. Troy and I didn't have microphones; did that mean we were automatically disqualified?

"Troy? We don't have microphones."

"Gabriella...? We're not even trying out. Remember?" Troy sounded worried like he thought I'd changed my mind. As it turned out, I had. I crept back to my seat praying that Troy would follow me and he did…but only to persuade me to leave.

"Come on Gabriella, look at them. There good, they deserve this." Alright, they were good. Really good in fact (except that Ryan kept doing these weird dance moves and when he did that cartwheel, well I thought he was going down). But they did not deserve this. Sharpay was way to mean to deserve anything. Not that you know, I had done anything to deserve being cast either (except miraculously survive a detention). I guess I never answered Troy because he kept talking.

"I don't sing, so even if we did try out I'd give up my part." Was that a threat? Before I had more time to ponder that thought it was time. Sharpay and Ryan were bowing and then Ms. Darbus was calling for any last minute auditions. It was time, the moment of truth, would we audition? My mind was a whirlwind of confusion. Yes, no, yes, no, yes, no, yes, no, yes, no, yes, no, yes, no…no. No it was I guess.

"YES! I'd like to audition Ms. Darbus." Whoa, was that me? I thought I had decided not to audition; didn't my brain get the memo? Apparently not. I could only imagine the heart attack that Troy was having right now.

"Miss Montez? The singles auditions have come and gone and you don't seem to have a partner to audition with..." Shit. Where was Troy? That boy was going to get a serious verbal invective (was that redundant? Should it have been just invective would that have made sense? Curse my lack of knowledge).

"I'll-I'll audition with her Ms. Darbus." Aw, I could've kissed Troy right then but that might have stilted our relationship a little bit. I mean Troy's hot and all but the last thing I want is for him to think of us as friends with benefits. No matter how beneficial that relationship could be (and believe me I could definitely imagine the benefits).

"Troy Bolton? Where's your sports posse or whatever you call it?" Silly Ms. Darbus, they were obviously…

"Hey yeah, where is you sports posse?" I thought he was glued to them. Now that I thought about it I'd never actually seen Troy without some basketball player or another around him.

"Gabriella, Ms. Darbus," he turned to us respectively, "It's called a team, not a posse. And I'm here to…" He stopped as if unable to go on.

"He's actually my singing partner." I smiled at Ms. Darbus hoping that she would believe me (I wouldn't in her shoes).

"Can he sing?" I wasn't actually sure of that, Troy and I never really discussed his singing ability. When I told her so she made a strange noise (kind of like that noise that most people make before they say, 'I told you so') and threw her hands in the air.

"Well then!" I thought she was going to continue and tell me that we couldn't audition (Troy was already on stage, I'm not quite sure when he got up there but since Ms. Darbus was ignoring him and I was talking for him I'm sure that he had the time) but she just sat back down. So I went up the stairs; and tripped. So much for being cool around Troy (but looking back I don't think I ever managed to be cool around Troy).

"Are you alright?" The pianist, a (nerdy) small and what I took to be shy girl helped me up. Taylor had told me that her name was Kelsi and that she followed Sharpay around, she also said that she was stuck up but she seemed nice enough to me. Actually she seemed kind of dorky (do I sense a kindred spirit?).

"I'm fine, I really should go do my audition though. Sorry." Stage fright aside I realized that I'd never memorized the words, but it was a catchy tune (but so slooooow, I hate to say it but I liked Ryan and Sharpay's version better) so I thought I'd manage. Kelsi began to play the opening tune (or whatever the professionals call it).

"It's hard to believe that I couldn't see, you were always there beside me." Guess what? Troy could sing, can I pick 'em or what? Unfortunately I don't think he had much faith in me (ok just because I trip over things and can't string together a coherent sentence at times doesn't mean I can't sing) because he looked like he was getting ready to walk off the stage.

"Thought I was alone with no one to hold," Well, I can assure you _that_ stopped him in his tracks. Yep Troy whirled right around and joined in with me, "But you were always there beside me. This feeling's like no other. I want you to know…" We sounded amazing together, I mean I'm not trying to brag or anything but we were so much better than Sharpay and Ryan. Until I hit a little snag.

"Ummm actually I forgot the rest. Sorry." I seemed to be apologizing a lot lately. I need to stop that (my mom says that too much apologizing can signal weakness, so I should only apologize to my elders and to people who can potentially beat me up, don't laugh that logic has served me well over the years).

"Fine, you both have call-backs. I'll post the time and date tomorrow." Ms. Darbus got up and walked out of the auditorium. Not so much as a 'good job' or a 'see you later'. Not much of a people person that one (well at least not a normal people person).

"Callbacks!? Where do _yo__u_," Sharpay stormed onto the stage and thrust her manicured spear of a fingernail into my shoulder, "get off having a callback?"

"Did you hear them Sharpay? They were good." Ryan (seriously even though we're on like opposing sides I was still starting to love this guy) followed Sharpay on stage.

"Troy, you were fabulous-like I knew you would be-but Gabriella, well darling you should stick to stage crew. C'mon Kelsi, we're leaving." She strutted off stage again with Ryan trailing behind her…again.

"I just have to grab my stuff, I'll be right there!" Kelsi called at Sharpay's back, who responded with an ever caring, 'well make it quick'.

"Kelsi? Why do you even hang out with her? She's such a bitch to you." This was the first thing that Troy had said against Sharpay, and I'm not gonna lie, it gave me hope.

"Sharpay? No she's just…just like that I guess. I think she's kind of lonely." Aw Kelsi was so nice, not at all standoffish like Taylor had said.

"Well I'd better go but just so you know if you need to rehearse you can meet with me anytime, before school or after, or even during lunch or chemistry."

"Chemistry sounds good to me." Troy started, who knew he was such a shirker? The boy's breaking school rules left and right (granted they're only little ones like skipping biology and not doing homework but still, that could lead to jail or drug dealing and then jail).

"Oh no, we're staying _in_ our classes. How about everyday during our ninth period study halls?"

Everyone agreed (Troy somewhat grudgingly) and we departed to get our stuff from our lockers and head home (well actually I think Troy goes to basketball practice after school and I'm not sure about Kelsi but I was going home).

While at my locker I picked up my science binder and dropped it in its place with a shudder. Reliving that experience was not on my to-do list. Now that I though a little more about it skipping science was a small price to pay for missing out on another lovely little chat with Sharpay.

Where was Kelsi when I needed her?


	9. The Truth

**AN: I know that people are reading this fic but I don't know if anyone is enjoying it. I'm not asking people to review, I just want to say that I have a busy schedule and although I enjoy writing this fic I'm not going to over exert myself to write a chapter every week if no one seems interested. Don't get me wrong I know that some people really are waiting for my updates and are disappointed that they are coming so far apart. I'll still update whenever I find time but if no one's asking for updates then I'll be writing only when I do have free time.**

Well, we did it. My mom and I moved to a new neighborhood yesterday. Even though we're still living out of boxes I have to say it's nice to have this feeling of…permanent-ness. It's nice to know I won't be saying good bye to this home anytime soon, even if the roof does leak a little when it rains (the contractor said he'd fix it when he finished building the house two months ago but he never did, so I guess my mom will have to pay for it to be fixed). It's also nice that I won't be leaving Troy (or Taylor). However that means I won't be leaving Sharpay either (oh well, you have to take the good with the bad I guess. And I _can_ handle Sharpay).

Before we moved into this house I never minded the piles of boxes that rose from floor to ceiling in every room of our apartment (although in this house the boxes have mostly just claimed the garage). I guess that was because no one ever came to our apartment, no one I cared about anyway. Today was different though and I could see that there were the flaws in my house. The entryway was too dark; the deep red walls that I normally loved seemed to emanate the feeling of hate. My room was too stark, true I hadn't had a chance to paint it yet (or even unpack more than one box) but did it _have_ to look like a hospital? Or (oh God) an insane asylum?

I think I was feeling this neurotic because Troy and Kelsi were coming over to practice…ahem, rehearse the song that Troy and I would sing for the callbacks. I still wasn't quite sure why my house was chosen to practice (I'm sorry _rehearse_) at, Troy's house is lived in (or at least not boxed up) and I don't have a piano (good thing Kelsi _just happened_ to have a nifty little portable keyboard). My house does have a sound proof garage though (I just had to open my mouth about that one didn't I?). As I checked out my garage's current situation (ummm space: zero, boxes: about a million) I sighed, I hated moving boxes.

And moving boxes is exactly what I was doing when the doorbell rang. Apparently I had misjudged the time I had to finish up with the boxes and take a shower before they arrived. Even though it was late September (very nearly early October) it was about seventy degrees outside and I was sweaty and panting, basically a complete mess. Sighing I crept out of the garage and into the house where I could see my mother letting Troy into the entry hall. Maybe I could sneak past Troy and at least change my clothes.

"Hey Gabriella. Sorry I'm early; I came straight here from basketball." Troy was sweaty too (at least I wasn't the only one). Although the idea of Kelsi having to practice with both of us _was_ unappealing and slightly nauseating.

"Hey," I waved to him (trying not to cringe at being caught) and led him through the hall towards the garage door, "Sorry about the mess. I was actually cleaning up a bit when you rang the doorbell."

Mountains of boxes rose above us; it was like the Antes were in my garage. I led Troy through the claustrophobic pathway that I had created to the clearing that was just big enough to fit three people and a portable keyboard. Aware that I probably smelled I wracked my brain to find an excuse to desert Troy and take a quick shower. And then bam! I had it, the perfect excuse.

"Hey Troy, I just remembered I have a gift for you. Wait here, I'll go get it." Before he could answer me I ran out of the garage and up to my room. Grabbing a clean pair of clothes I hurried to the bathroom. I turned the shower on, threw off my clothes, and jumped in. The icy water flowed over my skin and seeped into my hair. I didn't bother to shampoo, condition, or even turn the heat up (I wouldn't be in there for long anyway) that was going to be too time consuming. Hurriedly I scrubbed my entire body with soap (Dove, the only kind I'll allow my mom to buy), washed off and toweled dry.

Now, I've never been a big multi-tasker so you can imagine how hard it was for me to get dressed and blow-dry my hair at the same time. I smacked my scalp with the blow-dryer and almost fell over when I put both of my legs in the same pant leg (all I can say is thank God that I didn't straighten my hair that day). Over all I would say the whole thing took about seven minutes. I skidded back over to my room and grabbed the package for Troy.

I had been planning to give the present to him after we found out who would be cast in the musical (as a congratulatory present if we won or as a 'loser gift' if things didn't go so well) but my personal hygiene comes before the perfect moment any day.

By the time I was back down in the basement Kelsi had already arrived and she and Troy were conversing in the basement. As Kelsi set up her keyboard she listened to Troy and laughed and it struck me that this might have been actually happy (I don't know how she even stayed sane being around Sharpay all day). They both turned to look at me as I clamored down the steps and into the little clearing.

"Did you change?" Troy asked taking in my new outfit (surprisingly normal for me, a pair of jeans and a plain red T-shirt).

"What? Me change? Psh...no...no." I waved my hand carelessly (I think he bought it) and shoved the package in his hands, "Ok, don't open this until after the call backs. Seriously Troy, I'm only giving this to you now because I'll probably lose it or something (and I really needed to take a shower, but I opted not to tell him that."

"Umm well I thought we would just start from the beginning." Kelsi started quietly. She had given us the song about a week ago and we had been practicing with her separately until today.

The rehearsal went pretty well, Troy and I are both really good (I can be smug about one thing right? Isn't that the rule, you can be smug about one thing but not more. Or was that on a fortune cookie?) and we improve every time we practice (_rehearse_). At least that's what Kelsi said, and if I can't trust the composer of the song that I'm singing then what's the point?

I couldn't wait to blow Sharpay and Ryan's performance away. The look on her face when Ms. Darbus said that we had gotten a callback was so priceless, it would amazing to see that again (but she'd probably kill be right after she saw the final casting list if her name wasn't on there). I guess making Sharpay angry is like a drug, it's addicting but you do it too much it can be lethal.

Moving those boxes and then singing for an hour (it's a bigger work out than you might think) really tired me out. As soon as Troy and Kelsi left I trudged up the stairs (that's the bad thing about living in a house instead of an apartment, there's no elevator) and collapsed in my bed. It was only eight thirty but I was asleep the moment I closed my eyes. I woke up the next morning just as I had fallen asleep, over my covers and fully dressed.

* * *

"Callbacks?!" Sharpay screeched just as I entered the right wing of the school building. Fearing for my life (or least my eyesight, Sharpay's nails looked especially malignant today) I hid behind another of our school's many bulletin boards.

"Sharpay, you knew that Troy and Gabriella and you and I had callbacks." Ryan tried to reason with his nearly hyperventilating sister.

"I know but seeing it on paper makes it so much more_ final_." She responded morosely, what a drama queen. I swear I will punish my children if they ever act like that. It's annoying and (when done well) slightly unnerving.

Chad and Taylor (what were _those two_ doing together?) walked up to the Evans twins and said something to them. They were a good distance away and when no one was yelling I couldn't understand them. Ryan gestured to the board and Taylor made a face. Chad looked like he was protesting something, but what? It couldn't be about the callbacks, he knew that Troy and I were auditioning after all. What if he didn't really think that we'd make it? What kind of a best friend would think like that? Taylor had supported me, hadn't she? Not if the face that she was making was any indication.

* * *

"Gabriella, we need to talk." Taylor had talked me into coming to her mathletes/science decathlon training club-thing. So I sat on a very uncomfortable wooden chair while the whole club gathered around me (eighty percent female, twenty percent male, one hundred percent geek. I was surrounded by my people and it felt surprisingly good). This talk Taylor kept coming back to (this was the third time she'd mentioned it) was some sort of hazing into the club, I was pretty sure of that. Man, I was so wrong.

Taylor opened a laptop and set it in front of me. She started off into some sort of speech, something about influential people and their effect on the world. I don't know I wasn't listening to her because on the laptops screen was Troy Bolton in the boy's locker room. Now under any under circumstances I would have looked away, I do have morals after all. As soon as heard what Troy was saying though I froze up. I froze up because I heard my name.

"Gabriella? What about her?" Troy was saying, "She has nothing to do with basketball or this team and if you think that this musical we're trying out for is going to affect the team then you're wrong. You know the team is more important to me than some musical. More important than some girl too. If you guys don't know that then I don't even know why you voted me to be your captain. I'll forget about the musical, about Gabriella, is that what you want?" His speech was met with cheers from his team mate and a few cries of 'Go Wildcats!' but I wasn't listening anymore.

'More important than some girl too.' So that's what Troy thought of me, I was just some girl.

"Gabriella? You see why we had to show you this right? So that you would know the truth." Taylor told me concern etched on her face. I'm sure she thought she was doing the right thing, showing me what a complete _bastard_ my supposed friend was. So I said the only thing I could think of.

"Oh…"

I was shattered because as it turned out I had been right all along, I had never figured Troy out. I meant nothing to him and worse I didn't know the guy I had been spending most of my time with at all.


	10. My 'Moment'

**Thank you to my reviewers! I'm making an effort to update quickly for everyone, even those of you who are just readers.** **I apologize in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes, I haven't had a chance to do a thorough read through yet but I wanted to get it posted. Remember I own nothing and enjoy.**

This one time when I was in fourth grade my mom bought me the sixty-four pack of colored pencils. They were the most amazing things my nine year old eye had ever seen, I'm not even kidding. These things came in the most exotic colors, macaroni, cha-cha chili, wisteria (a deep purple, but I mean come on deep purple is too hard for kids to pronounce so let's call it wisteria instead), there was even one called razzmatazz (it was, and yes lets be simple here, red). My (then) best friend apparently wanted to have the sixty-four pack as well but her mom refused to buy it. So what else was she to do but _steal_ mine? Needless to say I was hurt and betrayed beyond belief (and yes she eventually gave them back, but I had to go a whole week not know if little razzmatazz was being overly sharpened or not). Troy's little monologue had the same effect as my supposed friends thievery.

I cried (but first I locked myself in a janitor's closet).

But I don't stay sad for long, so after three solid minutes of crying I just started to get angry. I was pretty sure that Troy didn't know I was watching him and he probably never would have said that to my face. After I thought about it I realized that he probably was just saying those things to reassure his team mates, but that wasn't even the problem. The problem was that he had said those things at all. He obviously cared more about his game than me if he was willing to lie just to calm down his team mates. I mean its like, be a man Troy, tell the truth. Am I right?

I obviously needed to back out of the call-backs, who knows what Troy would do? He might sing off key just so that we don't make it or something. You never really know with Troy, I think he's proved that pretty well. So I made my decision, next time I saw Troy I would tell him that I quit.

As it turned out that time came before I really had a chance to think of what I was going to say. Troy was waiting for me at my locker, presumably because we were supposed to go practice with Kelsi. Yeah, like that was going to happen now (I was so over Troy at this point). He greeted me with this sexy little wave slash grin thing and my heart fluttered (did I say over Troy?), but I remembered what he had said and steeled myself to let him know my decision.

"Hey, so I was just thinking about the call-backs-" For the first time in my life I cut him off. Gone were the days in which Troy cut me off, I was here and I was ready to play hardball (oh God that sounded so much cooler in my head).

"Me too, and here it is. I understand your concern about the call-backs, I'm concerned too. I mean what were we thinking, thinking we could compete against Sharpay and Ryan. I mean if this little 'dream' (I did air quotes so he knew I was being sarcastic) of ours had a moral it would be that geeks like me should hang around with people like you because when we do our hearts get broken and broken hearts are never good. In short the positively illogical, irresponsible, and utterly imperceptive workings of the human heart are so positively illogical, irresponsible, and utterly imperceptive that no one can ever hope to even begin to understand the emotions that one single person is trying to convey. When you add to that mix someone such as myself and someone such as yourself, two completely contradictory people, and then in addition to that you add our feelings and sentiments…well you see where I'm going with this right?" Actually I'm not even sure if I saw where I was going with that, so I could probably bet my life that Troy had no idea what I was talking about. I was as per the usual, right.

"Uh…so I take you don't want to rehearse today?" I smiled sadly and handed my sheet of music over to him.

"No I don't, give these to Kelsi will you?" He reluctantly relieved me of the burden and still looking completely confused (and utterly adorable) asked me one last question.

"So…I'll see you later then?"

"No, Troy. You won't." Those words were possibly the hardest words I'd ever had to say in my entire life. I turned slowly and walked away, not so much because I was sad (that would come later I was sure) but because of the dramatic effect it would have. What can I say; I like to make an impression.

When I have a problem I generally don't talk to my mom about it. Or I do and then do the exact opposite of what she tells me too. It's not that I don't appreciate her advice it's just that most of her suggestions sound like they're from a drunken college student (I mean seriously, 'Gabriella of course you should buy that shirt, they make you boobs look great!' no mother should say that to her child, she should tell me never to buy that shirt. That way I could actually feel good about buying it). I was feeling so miserable though that I couldn't help it.

"Mom, have you ever met the perfect guy but then he turned out to be nothing like how you though he was?" I flung myself onto the couch next to her. Mom turned to me with a incredulous look on her face.

"Gabriella have you met your father? Can you believe him? Married only a year after the divorce!" What I really can't believe is my mother; she can make my father look so bad sometimes.

"Mom, be fair. _You_ were the one who divorced dad and Lydia is the sweetest person I've ever met." I swear, you should hear what she says about those two sometimes. Mom makes it look like Dad left us for Lydia and now we're all broken up about it. In reality my mom divorced my Dad and he fell in love with his new secretary Lydia, three months after the divorce was filed. My parents got divorce when I was nine and I wasn't broken up about it at all. I mean yeah I wish they could've stayed together but having my parents separated but not throwing plates at each other (okay my mom throwing plates at my dad) is a good compromise.

"Hey you want my advice? You have to listen to my story." My mom laughed at her joke (I didn't get it but then I rarely do understand her humor), "Oh I have a girl coming over later tonight, her name's Cinnamon. I want you to be a good role model for her." Ah another project for my mother, I wondered if she would be a stripper or a druggie this time. With her name it was harder to tell, it sounded…exotic…enough for her to be a dancer but then again maybe her parents were just messed up like mine.

"I'll be good, but I'll also be in my room until she comes. I've homework that I'd like to finish before I meet…Cinnamon." In truth I really just wanted to read and stay out of my mom's sight (if I did she might forget about introducing me to this girl, it's worked before). So I went upstairs, grabbed a book, and read…until my cell phone rang. I had been reading for a few hours (isn't it amazing how you can get lost in a really good book?) so when my phone rang I was pretty surprised (no one I mean _no one_ ever calls me) and I may or may not have screamed quietly. Or loudly.

"Hello?" Yeah I still haven't found a witty way to answer the phone. But I am trying.

"Hey, Gabriella, it's Troy." Oh…_him_ He couldn't leave me alone could he? I really did miss him, even if it hadn't even been a day yet, so I decided to let him explain. I stayed silent to let him know I was angry but willing to listen.

"Look, I know what happened, I asked the guys and they told me. I had no idea you were listening to that. None of it was true, I swear. I'll prove it to you, if you want me to." Now I was interested, Troy seemed to have a knack for not letting me get bored around him, I'll say that.

"Prove it? How?" I did my best to sound skeptical. I don't think it worked very well, I'm pretty good at convey my emotions but only one at a time and right now I was feeling pretty hopeful.

"Turn around." Turn around? What? Was it a code word? Should I know the code word? Troy laughed through the phone, "Face the balcony Gabriella." Whoa. Whoa. That sounded way to stalkerish for my tastes. Was Troy watching me? For how long? I was seriously creeped out now so I turned around but I grabbed a stray mirror (the hand held kind) that was on my night stand, if it was a kidnapper I wasn't going without a fight.

It was actually Troy, and I didn't think he would be kidnapping me so I dropped the mirror discreetly on my bed before letting him in. How had he gotten up to my balcony anyway? I noticed the trellis on one side of it was a little bent (note to self move trellis before kidnappers begin to think like Troy).

"Are you crazy?! You could have fallen and been killed! Troy! You could've fallen and broken a bone! Oh my god you could've sued me! Are you crazy?!" I repeated, I was worried about his safety sure (I hated him at the moment yes but I didn't expect to hate him forever) but I also really didn't want to be sued.

"So you forgive me?" He asked smiling charmingly (my heart may have melted, it seemed to be skipping beats at the very least).

"I- I don't know I mean what you did was so wrong. You lied, how do I know I can trust you?" I really don't like liars, we've been through the colored pencil thing yes? Troy how however must have hated liars as well because he swore and moved closer to me. This was by far the most romantic moment of my life I mean Troy and I were practically kissing, my heart was beating like a zillion miles per minute and I'm sure I was blushing like crazy.

"Gabriella, I didn't mean to lie. I just wanted them to leave me alone about this, to you know, support me a little. Obviously that wasn't going to happen so I said stuff to shut them up for a while." It sounded sincere to me but something was tugging at the back of my brain.

"But…you didn't even want to try out in the first place." Why continue doing something that you hate? It didn't make sense at all.

"But _you_ did. And it wasn't so bad. You want to be in the musical, I can tell. I want you to be in the musical too and if I have to sing with you I will." This guy was so perfect, I was (there is absolutely no use denying it now) so in love with him. So I responded like I usually do when I'm in over my head.

"Oh…" And I smiled. It was probably the biggest stupidest smile ever but I had a feeling that I'd be smiling like that a lot now.

"Gabriella!" My mom's shrill yell cut through our moment (Troy and I were actually having a moment!), totally disillusioning everything.

"Oh God…I have to go be a good influence on some girl. Wanna come? You're a pretty good kid…at least you won't make any bad impressions anyway." I teased him as I led him out of my room and down stairs (I wasn't exactly sure how I was going to tell my mom that my friend had come over…through my balcony) while Troy protested jokingly.

"Good kid? I'm like a freakin' honors student; we don't get better than this."

Cinnamon turned out to be a girl who looked about twenty-five (but without her makeup she would probably seem about my age) and immediately cozied up to Troy.

"Hey there. You've heard about me?" She inquired seductively.

"Well no…actually I haven't." Troy responded woodenly, he obviously didn't like her but it didn't stop her from slipping him a card and flouncing away. I was disgusted after apologizing to Troy I yelled to my mom.

"Mom! Cinnamons doing…" I didn't know exactly what to call it, "...business in our house!" My mom came fluttering instantly out of the kitchen and over to Cinnamon.

"Oh dear, you need more time that's fine, fine dear don't you worry." She cooed to Cinnamon like she was five as she led her out of the main hall. It's amazing how nurturing and motherly my mom can be to those whom aren't her children.


	11. The Plan

**I can't believe it but this little story is almost over. Only one more chapter and I'll be done for good. Well I'll save the thank yous for next chapter when it's actually over I guess. But I would like to say thank you to every one who reviewed the last chapter, they were much appreciated! **

**Oh and no, I don't own or claim to own Seventeen and even though Gabriella casts it in a bad light I'm not saying it's a bad magazine.**

It's a little known fact about me but I have a minor case of kainotophobia (that's fear of change people). And okay _yes_, it's undiagnosed and _yes_ anyone who spends a few hours with me (or even just near me) would probably find out about it (my kainotophobia that is) but still. What about the fact that I change schools once or twice a year? Well no, it's not that kind of change that bothers me, it's the little things (but isn't it always?). Things like, I freak out if I don't have cereal for breakfast every morning or, oh I don't know, say for example I find out I'm in love with some guy. Some guy who's completely amazing but still, it sucks.

I want all of you out there to forget what you've heard about love, okay? Because you know what? The movies lie alright, they make it seem like you fall in love and it's great. You get to walk around all day in a daze and then magically the guy just happens to like you back. Well it doesn't happen like that (well, actually you do walk around in a daze but that part sucks, I have a giant bruise on my hip from where I ran into a wall). Turns out you actually have to work to make the guy like you. Seriously.

I've been reading _Seventeen_ magazine for about a day ( mean a whole day, all twenty-four hours of it) now and all the issues say that you have to flirt and smile and wear vile smelling perfume (I really do not want to smell like Eau Delicaté, even if it does smell like 'a bouquet of floral passion'). And the things that magazine tells me to wear! There are shoes that look like bananas, dresses that look like paper bags, and shorts that could quite conceivably be underwear (please don't get me started on the actual underwear). Oh but that's just to get his attention.

Then apparently I have to be friendly with his guy friends (but not too friendly because if one of them developed a crush on me I'm off limits, I thought that was just with girls), but bitchy to his girl friends (I never liked the cheerleaders anyway), and of course I need to hang out with him but I also have to give him space. I should also date some other guy just to make him jealous but then break up with him before it gets too serious (but sometimes that gives the impression of not wanting a serious relationship at the moment, so sometimes it's better to skip this step; gee thanks _Seventeen_).

How could I forget, before I do any of that I have to pick the right kind of man. Older guys are sophisticated but might want to take things too far, younger guys are usually fun but immature, and guys my age can be immature but we'll at least know the same people (but I already have I guy in mind and he's perfect so I skipped this step).

After reading all of that I decided that I'd have a better chance of getting Troy if I was just myself (and we all know how much that says).

After Troy and I (in a sense) got back together and began practicing again things started to pass in a blur. I'd wake up, practice with Kelsi before school, practice with Kelsi during lunch, and practice with both Kelsi and Troy after school. Then I'd go home do my homework and start over again.

All in all things were going pretty well. I had finally memorized the song (if I was going to have to go through that for every song I might just let Sharpay have the part, I didn't need that kind of torture along with Sharpay's own special animosity), Troy had convinced his dad that the musical would look good on his college applications, and all of our friends were finally supporting us. What could go wrong?

Naturally when someone says this something must go wrong. It's Murphy's law, you know, 'whatever can go wrong will go wrong'. It's like Mother Nature's (or God's, or whatever deity you believe in I suppose) way of telling you 'hey you puny human, your life has been a little too good so far so I'll just throw a little misfortune in your way, just because.'

So things were going good and we were feeling like nothing could go wrong. Of course we were wrong, after all Sharpay did still want the same part as me. And I could bet anything that she would do everything in her power to get it. Some people just get fixed on something and have to have it, kinda like me and getting A's. You know, I don't think I can really blame her, I mean if our teacher was giving out just one A and Sharpay and I were competing to get it (even though Sharpay's academic record is pretty appalling) I would do anything to get it.

Except get the times of the basketball championship, science decathlon, and call backs switched to the same time. I wouldn't do that. According to Kelsi though Sharpay would. Also according to Kelsi, and I believed her, Ms. Darbus was fooled into switching the call backs times (the theater obviously couldn't wait an hour or two). Oh and get this, Ryan was in on it (what do you know the boy does have a backbone).

Surprisingly Chad and Taylor were angrier than Troy and I were, I think they were trying to show us that they really are supporting us this time (although it did get kind of creepy when Chad started threatening Sharpay and Ryan). It was actually Troy who formed the original plan, with modifications made by Taylor and I. Oh and Kelsi and the other basketball guys did…well I'm not entirely sure what part they played in the plan (except for Kelsi agreeing to play piano for us, but was that really a surprise?) but they were there and eager to play some part so I guess that counts for something.

The next day after school (the day of the callbacks/decathlon/championship) our plan took action. Taylor and I entered the decathlon normally (and in my matching white lab coat I looked as normal as all the other nerds in white lab coats, a big accomplishment for me) and took our places.

((Now (this is off topic but I feel it's past time I addressed it) I've noticed that I've been referring to myself, whether it be directly or indirectly, as a nerd/geek/loser for a while now. This isn't because I have low self esteem (mine is surprisingly high) or anything, it's just because I've accepted it (feels good to get that off my chest, you know?). Continuing on with the actual plot now….))

At first we went along like normal, and I have to say I think I was pretty much dominating the entire competition. Those West High (yes our stupid clichéd school actually has a rival called West High) mathletes aren't so smart. I mean I did this math problem in like three minutes and by the time I finished the guy I was competing against wasn't even half way done (needless to say I pretty much stopped trying after that, not to sound egotistic or anything but I was still beating them even after I decided to stop rushing through the problems). Soon though the chemistry set of the competition started and Taylor gave me the signal.

The signal was Taylor discreetly sneezing (looking back though it's pretty hard to sneeze discreetly so I'm pretty sure everyone noticed) so when I heard a faint 'achoo' and a mumbled 'bless you' I sprung into action. Since the chemicals I was working with were mildly dangerous though I didn't so much as 'spring' as I did 'slowly ease' into action. So slowly easeing into action I mixed a concoction of chemicals together fully knowing that they would produce a foul smell that would prompt the administrator to ask us to clear out of the room.

As soon as we escaped the decathlon Taylor and I headed towards a broom closet where she had set up some sort of a mechanism (however smart I might be, it was clear that mechanics and electronics would never be my strong point) that would mess with the power in the gym. She fiddled with a few buttons on her lap top and the lights on the device lit up and blinked. This apparently meant that it had worked (obviously right) because Taylor smiled and said,

"Alright let's get you to the auditorium," She cackled a little bit before continuing, "This should surprise the hell out of that girl."

We hurried to the backstage area where Taylor left me to find a seat; I looked around but didn't see Troy or Kelsi so I headed over to Ms. Darbus.

"Hi, Ms. Darbus. Sorry if I'm late but-" As per the usual (with this school anyway) she cut me off.

"I'm sorry Miss. Montez but _you_ are late and the theater waits for no one." She informed me primly before flipped her scarf and walked away. Around this time Troy ran in and apologized for being late, whereupon he was met with the same information that the theater could not possible wait for him -or anyone else for that matter.

According to the plan everything was going right, there were people spilling into the auditorium as Troy and I stood on the stage and Kelsi had returned to inform Ms. Darbus that she would be willing to play the piano after all (she must have refused at some point before I'd entered the room). Unfortunately Sharpay had also returned and offered to sing again for the new arrivals.

Before I knew what was happening Ms. Darbus said something about show business, Sharpay stormed off stage, Ryan followed her, and someone shoved a microphone in my hand. I found myself standing on stage with hundreds of eyes trained on me (and what was I wearing? A stupid looking white lab coat, not the cute flirty outfit that seventeen advised me to wear).

Have I mentioned my (undiagnosed) kainotophobia? And the fact that singing in front of hundreds of people (or the very least one hundred) was a big change for me?

I thought I might have.

**I just realized that there isn't much dialougue in this chapter, sorry if that bothered anyone (I know that would annoy me).**


	12. Happily Ever After

**The last chapter,**** it's actually surprisingly sad. I'm going to miss writing this story. I want to thank everyone whose read and reviewed this story. Thank you guys so much, I loved reading your reviews and I'll miss those too.**

If you've ever stood before a large crowd of people, then you may know how I felt at that moment. If you have stage fright you'll have an even better idea. As I stared at all the eyes that were trained on me (and ok Troy as well, but it sure as hell seemed like everyone was looking at me) I was struck silent. This, I believe it's safe to say, doesn't happen often, even when surprised I can usually manage an 'oh' or something. But…there were just so many of them and they were all going to listen to me (me!) sing. Suddenly I forgot the lyrics. Then the tune flew out of my head followed shortly by what I was even supposed to be doing on the stage. What was I doing on the stage? Was I here to dance? But no I couldn't dance (I still can't actually). So what was it? I was in complete panic mode.

Now I've never experienced this (and, to be completely honest I don't think many of you have either) but I imagine my state of mind was kind of like that of a child in an emergency. You know like there's a burglar or a fire and they call nine-one-one but suddenly can't remember their phone number or address. I'm pretty sure I was feeling something like that.

Kelsi began to play the piano (I listened but couldn't even tell you if she was playing the right tune or not) and I knew that I had to sing. It was time to make or break, if I could sing right now I would shine, I was sure of it. Yes people, to put it simply: it was go time.

…But I never went. I tried, really I did, I tried to sing really hard but I couldn't. I ended up just kinda squeaking and then going silent. Then I was spinning, I couldn't see the people who were watching me, or Kelsi playing the piano, or even Troy waiting for his cue, as if he'd sung on stage for his entire life. With a jerk I was pulled back into reality, Kelsi had stopped playing the piano and Troy was holding my shoulders (he was probably holding me up too).

"Are you all right?" He whispered concern heavy in his voice.

"Honestly?" I whispered back, "No. I think I'm going to vomit." And I did too. Feel like I was going to be sick, I didn't actually get sick.

"Hey, no. Just look at me, ignore everyone else. We're just rehearsing; the call backs aren't for weeks." Troy let go of one of my shoulders, it felt icy where his hand had been only moments before. But I nodded and did just as he said, turning my head to look at him instead of the sea of eyes watching me. I could still feel the weight of their gaze resting on me, pushing me down but I stood straighter and cued Kelsi to begin the song again.

This time the words came easily spilling from my lips as if I was a fountain spouting water. Gradually the weight lifted from me and I spun away from Troy. The dizziness clouded my head for a second but then it was gone burned from my thoughts by the rush of singing with Troy.

And then I felt it, all those people sitting in the audience gaping at us (the nerdy girl and the basket ball player, we were clearly the underdogs and let's face it who doesn't love a good story about the underdog?) were suddenly not just watching me perform. No, they were watching Troy _and_ I.

They were watching _us_.

As the song ended the audience erupted into applause, I even noticed the Wildcats basketball team and the mathletes stand up at one point. I can't even begin to describe the feeling of bowing in front of all those people. It was the best part of the performance, it was over and we had done well. There was one thing nagging me in the back of my mind though…

"Troy, we need to talk." I whispered in his ear as we exited the stage. Smiling he pulled me into the prop closet (the thing where most drama departments keep their costumes and props, ours had a couch about a million shoes and the oldest refrigerator I've ever seen) and shut the door.

"Talk." Troy instructed me, sitting on the couch and patting the cushion next to him. I sat down and began.

"Well, I've been thinking about the call backs and the roles we would play if we got the parts…"

* * *

After Troy and I talked we exited the prop closet (which as I've mentioned before isn't much of one) and snuck back to our respective destinations (the gym for Troy and a random science class room for me). Now I don't know how many of you talk to your friends (and Troy and I were _just friends_ mind you) in prop closets but when you exit one with a member of the opposite sex, people stare at you. Apparently prop closets are just as bad as any other closet in the school. But seriously, if I was going to sneak around the school to make out with my boyfriend (which I would never do, and sadly will probably never get a chance to do) or whatever, I would be a little more original than a closet. Give me some credit people! 

I never wanted to join this mathletes thing, I don't know if I ever covered that but really I didn't. Think about what it could do to my credentials (in terms of college it would look good but to my peers? I had pretty much kissed popularity good-bye), but Taylor was insistent and in the end her pleading and my future college application won out. Suffice it to say that I was considerably bored during the decathlon.

That's not to say I didn't want to win, I just didn't see the point of cheering on my teammates when they faced a particularly hard challenge. After all when I'm working out an equation I usually prefer quiet.

As soon as the decathlon was over I quickly congratulated everyone and attempted to move through the crowd to get to the door. Of course our team won (we were ahead of them from the first problem after all) so all the parents and spectators (but come to think of it, who goes to watch a decathlon for fun?) were crowding onto the floor to congratulate us. Which completely blocked my way to the door. See, I had promised Troy that I would try to catch the end of the game so that we could go talk to Ms. Darbus about the call backs together.

When I finally reached the door I was practically pitched into the hallway by the still celebrating crowd. The hallway as it turned out was a relief, it was completely empty and sometimes that's just what you need after being pushed around by a big crowd. I raced to the gym hoping to catch even the last minute of the game. Behind me I heard footsteps that sounded just as desperate as mine, Taylor it turned out had become quite friendly with Chad over the past few days (they really bonded while trying to screw up my life) and she had promised Chad the same thing I had promised Troy. We entered the gym together and were greeted by a cacophony of noise.

Screams, cheers, and shouts of joy were exploding all throughout the gym. People were flooding from their seats and above all that noise our school's anthem played from the loud speakers. Most school anthems are just boring, you know like: East High, the best of them all/ See her standing proud and tall… But ours, no, no, _no _ours couldn't be like that. It's this really pop sounding thing, kind of like a mixture of a cheer and a song. I think Sharpay and Ryan actually made the recording that the school plays. It goes something like: We're all in this together…we're all stars…Wildcats sing along…together everyone. Obviously that's not the whole song but I really couldn't hear the whole thing, and I'm not quite sure what it is that we're all in together (the sport, the school? Something like that).

Now, I'm pretty good at navigating though the crowds that are in our school's hallways so I led Taylor through the swarm of people, darting through openings in the crowd and pushing my way through the more extraordinarily populated spots. Eventually I saw Troy holding the biggest trophy I had ever seen (why didn't our decathlon team get such a big trophy? I think I know why…) and pointing him out to Taylor we headed that way.

"Hey Wildcat!" I greeted him, "How'd you do?" Obviously they had won but I felt compelled to ask him. Troy handed his trophy off to his dad and grabbed my hands (which instantly got all tingly and jump started my heart rate).

"We won! And you?" He asked carefully, fully aware that I might be upset if we had lost (some guys would have bothered to ask at all).

"We won too!" I had to yell back to him because another rendition of our school's anthem had started blaring on the loud speakers. Sharpay, the unofficial moment ruiner of East High, stormed over to us and pointed her finger in our direction. Then sighing she dropped her hand looked at us dejectedly.

"Congratulations," She deadpanned, "You guys got the parts of Minnie and Arnold. That means Ryan and I (she hitched her thumb over her shoulder to point first at Ryan then herself) will be you understudies in case something happens. So, break a leg, I guess." This is what I had prepared Troy for, smiling I turned to him.

"So Troy we got the parts." I said casually knowing full well that my nonchalant attitude would entice Sharpay to listen to our conversation. Her face contorted into a mask of confusion (although she tried hard to conceal it) and I knew I had her hooked.

"Yep. We did." Troy answered also less than enthusiastically.

"So, you think we should tell them?" I asked doing my best to look like I didn't think we should tell them.

"Well…" Troy also didn't sound convinced, the boy is an amazing actor.

"Wait a minute tell us what?" Sharpay had cracked; I knew she wouldn't be able to hold out for very long. She was just a little bit too nosey.

"We're giving up the parts." I told her simply, "You can have them." I could tell that Sharpay was surprised, she opened and closed her mouth a few times and Ryan looked like he was going to faint. They plainly never would have given up the parts.

"I- uh- Thanks." Sharpay managed and I swear it's the first time I even heard her use the word 'thanks' (I didn't know I had surprised her that much).

I know I probably surprised you all with giving up the leads, especially when I had wanted them so much. But I honestly knew I couldn't deal with learning all those songs (I would have had three solos and two duets not to mention all the songs I sing with the cast) and the lines and having to worry about not knocking anything over. No I had realized that I would be more comfortable being in the cast for my first stage show. After talking with Troy he had agreed with me and we only had to go ask Ms. Darbus if we could be the understudies instead of the leads (we hadn't actually asked her yet but I was sure she'd say yes). So it was almost settled, Sharpay and Ryan would play the leads and Troy and I would be Sharpay's parents and the understudies.

Sharpay and Ryan left before we could change our minds and Troy and were left alone. The gym had by this time pretty much cleared out and only some streamers and a stray balloon or two were left behind (our school really gets into the championships, they apparently buy streamers and blow up balloons before the game and toss them around whether we win or lose).

"I think we made the right decision," Troy assured me after they had left; "I just wish we didn't have to give up-" He stopped as if he had almost told a secret. Which of course made me want to know what he had been about to say.

"What? What are we giving up? Our career as the most amazing leads this school has ever seen?" I teased.

"Well yeah but…I meant-" And then he kissed me. It caught me totally off guard but let me tell you it was the nicest surprise I had ever received (and yes it was very surprising, who knew Troy Bolton liked me? Me, the dorky science girl).

"I meant the kiss scene." He told me and then smiled, he smiled because I was still pretty surprised and I guess a look of wonder had crossed my face.

"Oh well, we're going Sharpay's- I mean Minnie's parents, aren't we? I think that entitles us to a kissing scene." I swear if I hadn't been in such a daze I never (never in a million years) would have said that. But I'm glad I did because Troy just said 'Damn straight' and kissed me again.

I was kissing Troy Bolton, the most wanted guy in the school and that in itself was amazing but it wasn't even the best part. No the best part was that Troy Bolton was kissing me.

* * *

Troy and I have been going out for three months now and I've changed so much since I've met him. As it turns out I actually like watching basketball. It's so much more interesting than I ever thought. There's just so much going on, and I can scream whatever profane things I want and everyone around me just screams them too. I've even started practicing with Troy at his house and for my lack of co-ordination I'm surprisingly good. 

As for the drama club? The musical was amazing (and remember that present I gave to Troy? It was a set of matching scarves one for him and one for me, but he refused to wear his. I wore mine every day and got numerous compliments on it though), but even just being part of the cast I managed to break a crate that I was supposed to pretend to sit on, how was I supposed to know it couldn't actually support my weight (remember that box I painted blue? It's a box no more). And although Troy and I never actually got our kiss scene we made up for it while we were back stage.

I talked to a specialist two months ago about my (undiagnosed) kainotophobia and as it turns out it was all in my head. Still getting used to changes and surprises hasn't been easy. I still have cereal for breakfast every morning, but I try to change up the brands. I _have_ been getting better though, take my answer to Troy's question of 'where do you want to go for dinner tonight?' My answer?

"Surprise me."

** Thank you so much for reading! And I know that some of you are probably disappointed that Troy and Gabriella didn't keep the parts but it just made sense to me, and it set up the kiss scene so well.**

**Now that Compatibility Test is officially over I've started thinking about another story to write. I've got a good idea but I'm not sure how many people will read a Ryelsi, if you decide to review this chapter (and since the last one I'd really appreciate it if you did) I'd like to know if anyone would like to read a Ryelsi.**


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